


Peril's Peril

by ChocoPokkin



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Mpreg, alpha!napoleon, beta!gaby, omega!illya
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-12 07:53:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11732775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoPokkin/pseuds/ChocoPokkin
Summary: Illya is odd. Napoleon is odd. Why not join their odd together?





	1. Communicating to no Avail

**Author's Note:**

> A little pet project. Muwahahaha

[Illya's been lying to us.]GT

[A spy, lying? No.]NS

[I'm not joking around, Napoleon.]GT

[Hoho, getting brave using names here.]NS

[Oh shut it, would you?]GT

[Have you ever known my to shut my pretty mouth?]NS

[Point taken. Illya?]GT

[Ah, yes. Peril. What has out little Russian bonbon being hiding?]NS

[If I knew, I wouldn't be bringing it to you.]GT

[Are you implying something, Gaby dearest?]NS

[Perhaps that your mouth runs faster than the motor of a car?]GT

[I'm wounded.]NS

[You're no help what so ever.]GT

[I was quite a bit of help in Singapore]NS

[Istanbul?]GT

[And isolated case, I assure you.]NS

[Of course it was.]GT

[Again, quite wounded by your bite.]NS

[You commended me on it last time.]GT

[It was directed at Illya, then. Not me.]NS

[He's was being infuriating.]GT

[As he often is.]NS

<delayed>[You said he was lying to us. Should I be concerned?]NS

[I don't know yet.]GT

[Foreboding.]NS

[Solo.]GT

[Teller?]NS

[Oh for the love of-]GT

[Language, dearest.]NS

[I'll show you language.]GT

[Yes, yes. Iron Curtain chopshop girl. I get it. Why do you suspect Illya is lying?]NS

[His file. It's shockingly dull.]GT

[I noticed that as well]NS

[Doesn't fit the Illya we know.]GT

[Have you thought of confronting him?]NS

[Because that would go over so well.]GT

[Had to ask.]NS

[Of course you did.]GT

[Specifically what makes you question it?]NS

[He takes a week or two off every three months.]GT

[Rather periodic for a beta, no?]NS

[My thoughts.]GT

[A cover up?]NS

[Most likely.]GT

[The question is: what for?]NS

[Could be dynamic. You know how Russians are.]GT

[That would be startlingly obvious, don't you think?]NS

[Perhaps.]GT

[He does have a neutral scent...]NS

[A little  _too_ neutral?]GT

[Now that you bring it up, yes.]NS

[Do we go to Waverly?]GT

[I somehow doubt he's aware, as the file came form him]NS

[Point.]GT

<delayed>[Oleg, then?]GT

[As if he would say anything.]NS

[Have you seen Illya recently?]GT

[Has anyone seen Illya outside of missions?]NS

[He checks in with me.]GT

[He plays favorites. Of course he does.]NS

[Jealous?]GT

[Perhaps. He is an enjoyable view.]NS

[Indeed.]GT

[Where are you? I would prefer to discuss this in person.]NS

[Cannes.]GT

[What a lovely time of year to visit the coast! I'll meet you there tomorrow. Be a dear and pick me up?]NS

[You are quite taxing.]GT

[Yes but you love me regardless.]NS

<no response>

 

Napoleon's flight landed around noon the next day, a leisurely time in France where most business were closed to enjoy a lavish lunch. It did not take long to locate his elegant partner in a multitude of crimes, Gaby's elegant wardrobe and bombshell looks making her stand out immediately in the crowd of peons. Of if only they knew. Stepping up, he placed a chaste kiss on her perfectly painted cheek before they collected his designer baggage and were on their way to her car. He paid little mind the to scape passing by, his mind on his overly angry Russian partner that seemed to be both missing and hiding something. How strange. Were they related? Illya tended to be wash and wear at best and now he was requiring far more attention than Napoleon was used to. It wasn't until they had arrived at the hotel that he finally spoke beyond 'pass the salt' talk to his friend. "Illya." What an eloquent start, he thought to himself, but Gaby nodded. 

"I feel as if he has gotten himself into hot water and refuses to ask for help." Well, she spoke what they were both thinking. It was hard to tell with their comrade when he needed help. And the KGB was dicey at best to be a part of. 

"First, let's try contacting him." The voice of reason. You knew things were bad when Napoleon was taking on that role. Gaby nodded slightly and went to take out her communicator but it was he who got his out first. "I'll try and shock him into responding." He contemplated for a moment what to say to shaking the "beta" out of his radio silence before a sly grin crossed his face. Oh dear. This would get him a swift fist to the throat should they find Illya in one piece.

 

[Does the KGB know you're gay?]NS

[What makes you say that I am gay?]IK

[You haven't slept with Gaby.]NS

[Neither have you.]IK

[Touché, my friend. But we both know my preference.]NS

[Watch yourself, Cowboy.]IK

[Now that I have your attention, Gaby is worried about you.]NS

[So, naturally, you are contacting me instead of her.]IK

[You catch on quite fast, Peril.]NS

[I assure you that I am fine.]IK

[Then you won't mind joining us in Cannes!]NS

[I did not say I was not preoccupied.]IK

[Don't be a cold fish! We would love your company!]NS

[Not this time, Solo.]IK

[Then we will come to you.]NS

[That will not be necessary.]IK

[Sure it is! Team bonding at it's finest, since you've missed the last few sessions.]NS

[Perhaps next time.]IK

[Just so you know, I'm pouting.]NS

[Because that affects me so.]IK

[You and Gaby must be sharing notes on how to knock my ego down.]NS

[That is exactly what we do. Goodbye.]IK

[Gaby says you're lying to us.]NS

<no response>

[Ah. I see she was right.]NS

<no response>

[Peril, I know you're there. If you won't talk to me, talk to Gaby.]NS

<delayed>[I am leaving UNCLE.]IK

[I'm sorry, I thought you said that you were leaving UNCLE.]NS

[Da.]IK

[Under what reasoning, may I ask?]NS

[You may not.]IK

[If you're in trouble, tell us. We'll get you out of it, Illya.]NS

[Russia needs me more than UNCLE. I will not be missed, there are already candidates for my replacement.]IK

[Surely you do not believe that.]NS

[Confirm with Waverly.]IK

[You know what I meant.]NS

[Goodbye, Solo.]IK

[Illya wait, you can't just leave us!]NS

[Watch me.]IK

[Are you claiming we mean nothing to you?]NS

[Those words were not said.]IK

[So don't do this. Please.]NS

<no response.>

[Whatever it is you're running from, we can resolve it.]NS

[There is no resolving this.]IK

[You said that about Prague.]NS

[We did not resolve Prague!]IK

[Oh... Then we resolved the Vinciquerra ordeal pretty well!]NS

[You are insufferable, Solo.]IK

[Perhaps, but you continue to not break my neck when we share a suite.]NS

[A work of God.]IK

[Illya, why are you leaving us?]NS

[I have been assigned new mission.]IK

[Which entails?]NS

[That is not part of disclosure I am allowed to give.]IK

[Of course it isn't. Will you return ever?]NS

[Most likely not.]IK

[A true shame. May we visit?]NS

[No.]IK

[Illya.]NS

[Do not call me that.]IK

[Do not call you by your name?]NS

[I am done with this conversation.]IK

[Funny, you always say that and keep retorting.]NS

<no response>

[Playing hard to get again, I see? Luxembourg all over again!]Ns

<no response>

[I will get you to respond again, Illya. Mark my American word.]


	2. An Unexpected Agent

Napoleon stared at his communicator for a long while and still, no response came. Illya was leaving them for good and they didn't even get a reason as of to why he would do such a thing. He... had thought that they mattered more to him but it was evident not. There was something fishy about the entire situation because, unless he was drastically mistaken, Illya actually liked them so why would he skip out, out of the blue? Frowning, he reached up and rubbed his freshly shaven jaw as different scenarios ran through his head. Double checking the communication log: was something off? He could almost smell the beta's distress through his device which was not something easily conveyed by Illya. Or was he reading too much into this? Did Illya genuinely just want out of UNCLE? "You don't think...?" 

"It's a possibility." 

"Surely even the KGB wouldn't-"

"Oh, they would." 

"Then we find him."

"Russia, obviously. Not that that narrows it down much."

The alpha started shuffling around in his bag again, pulling out a carefully packed screen that he turned on with a twist of a few knobs and a press of a few buttons. It was a map of the world, carefully drawn to perfection and there were little lights all over it. "Napoleon?" Gaby asked as if looking for clarification. 

"I snagged it off of one of Illya's comrades quite some time ago. Each dot represents a KGB safe house or HQ." 

"Brilliant." Why would Illya be anywhere but with the KGB if he were assigned a fresh mission? "Which one is he at?" 

"That, my dear, is indeed the question." That was the question of the day it seemed because they spent the next several hours pouring over the screen in an attempt to narrow it down. There were only so many ways on could check on a hidden safe house before alarms were getting triggered throughout the entire organization. The last thing they needed was Illya running when he caught wind of them. 

Many hours, several pots of coffee, and two frazzled spies later, they had settled on a city to start in with a course of action that would allow them to travel without too much notice. 

St. Petersburg was the place of choice to start in as Illya had once mentioned that he enjoyed the history there. Where better place to start than one of his fondest cities? Or what they assumed to be his fondest city. Illya never seemed to enjoy much of anything so they were grasping at straws as they caught a flight into communist Russia where they hoped to find him. As it turned out, KGB safe houses were very hard to get into or even to survey without being noticed. No wonder they seldom heard of anyone managing. Napoleon and Gaby would switch off after hours at a time watching a single building but, after no sign of any life, they would move on. And again, move on. Truly disheartened, the two of them found little comfort in the fact that each house crossed off was one house closer to Illya. There were just too damn many places for the towering man to hide. 

It was a stroke of luck that they found him in Astrakhan by the coast. Gaby and Napoleon both sulking over their respective cups of coffee when an abnormally tall man walked into the cafe. Scenting the air, he didn't smell like Illya but he... was it even him or some equally statuesque Russian man enjoying his day? From their spot in the darkened corner, it was easy to watch but never did they see a face. When he opened his mouth, a smooth stream of Russian flowed from his mouth as he spoke to the alpha across the counter. This was an omega. Both dropped their heads and sighed softly before Napoleon's nose wrinkled slightly and he glanced up again just to be most certain. Bowtie, a cap, a dreadful turtleneck... Illya? Standing, he walked over to the counter and put his hand on the man's shoulder with a bright smile, "Peril! What a surprise meeting you here!" 

The man who turned was most certainly not his Peril. Their eyes were all wrong and his face was nowhere near as attractive, "Apologies, thought you were someone else." Slinking back to his table, he watched the man leave with his whatever it was he had bought and then he started noticing the differences. Illya walk so smoothly, spoke much deeper, smelled cleaner... He had put his hopes and prayers into this man and now his hopes were dashed. Utterly dashed. 

Looking like a kicked puppy, he drained his cup and stared at the dregs in the bottom like they held the answer to all his woes. He continued doing so until Gaby reached across the table and took his hand gently. It anyone passing by, it was an intimate scene but she was comforting him. They were both getting more worried as the time went on. 

Waverly attempted to contact them while they were on their self imposed mission but neither answered properly, simply stating that they were on an extended holiday with no real information given. It was the same thing over and over again until they took a chance and ventured into the heart of Moscow where they had caught a lead on a KGB agent with some information.

"You are Solo?" A voice asked as Napoleon sat in yet another drab cafe waiting for his "contact to arrive"

"In so many words, yes." The man sat down immediately across from him and accepted a cup of coffee Napoleon had ordered to make things seem less suspicious. "You have some information for me, if I'm not mistaken." 

"Da." The way he said it made the American's heart ache. This kid couldn't be more then nineteen yet he was a full blown KGB agent and-an omega? Interesting. The CIA kept omegas as handlers and desk workers but this young man was clearly a field agent. "Illya Nickovitch Kuryakin." A file was slid across the table for Napoleon to look over. A lot of the information was given to UNCLE but-oh. Oh my. 

Standing swiftly, file clutched in his hand, he set enough rubles down for the coffees and departed with a fresh pep in his step. 

"You're back early." Gaby pointed out, the beta taking in Napoleon's stance before she smiled, "You've got something." 

"Yes, indeed I do. A lovely young omega with several chips on his shoulder, not dissimilar to our Peril, offered me something with held from UNCLE." The file was offered and Gaby accepted it with her slender hand.

"I do not see how any of this differs-oh." Napoleon was bouncing on his feet. 

"Yes, my dear. I think we've found why he disappeared." 

"I do believe we have." They were one step closer to finding their dear Russian.

 


	3. Home, not so sweet, Home

Omegas. The KGB operated solely with omega field agents! No wonder alphas from all different countries had trouble going against the Russian spies toe to toe because not only were they omegas, they were weaponized omegas. Shaking his head, he was startled that he had never noticed before that Illya, was, well... and omega. It should have been obvious but his scent was so utterly neutral that he had just assumed he was a beta and never bothered to ask. Would Illya have even told them that he was an omega if asked about it? Surely he would have trusted them enough to fess up, right? This only deepened the shit they were in. Gaby was reading over the files for the umpteenth time that day, looking for details that would lead them to Illya but it wasn't there. No location was given or even hinted at beyond Moscow base. Where was the Moscow base? Back to the drawing board. 

Napoleon put his bare feet up as he lounged, reading over the different reports he had managed to snag from another contact. They were exactly what he needed. Every field agent was detailed on a page or two with Illya being on of them. His background, his training, his missions, his pill usage, everything. As well as his connection with UNCLE and why he was there which made the alpha bristle. He was part of UNCLE in order to keep an eye on the Brits and Americans. Tch. Typical Russians, never trusting anyone. But, again, that was why they were there: they weren't trusting Illya. With good reason, it seemed. 

"Has this narrowed are search?" Gaby asked as she offered him a mug of hot coffee to help stave off the exhaustion the last couple of weeks had set in. 

"Unless I am drastically mistaken... he should be in Kiev with his mother." Of course they were in the completely wrong country to find Illya. 

"I didn't know his mother was from the Ukraine." 

"He grew up there before he presented, then was rushed back to Russia to be put through the program." How had no country ever uncovered this secret before? It was, well, in a word: brilliant. Omegas were severely under utilized in Napoleon's opinion, having seen some feisty ones in his days. 

"So, we're going to Kiev, then. Lovely." 

They drove across the boarder to Illya's home town. It was anything but simple, the capital city bustling with men in suits and ladies in dressed. Funny, he had always imagined Illya's home town to be more quaint. Illya's mother's address was listed under the filing work so it was easy to set up a surveillance watch and within an hour, Illya was spotted leaving the house. Napoleon's heart swelled in his chest when he saw how good the omega looked. There was a bounce in his step and a small quirk at his lips and he was kissed on the cheek by his mother before he left the stoop. Trailing after him proved to be easy, the Russian not expecting to be followed in Kiev, and that was how the next few weeks went before they finally knocked on the front door while Illya was away. 

<Illya, darling, did you forget your hat again?> The voice was gentle, so at odds with Illya's harsh tones. 

<It isn't Illya, my dear> The door opened to reveal a small blonde woman that shared Illya's blue eyes. 

<Are you from the agency?> From the agency? Ah, she thought they were from the KGB. 

<No, but we are good friends of his.> Napoleon shot her his most charming smile as he said that. 

<Then come in, come in! Illyusha just ran to the market for me. I forgot to pick up my medicine while I was getting groceries.> An ailing mother? That could be motive for him leaving UNCLE.<How do you know my sweet Illya?> She asked as she poured them cups of fresh coffee that were offered immediately with slightly shaking hands. 

<We used to work with him before he left UNCLE.> Her face dropped. 

<You are Mr. Solo and Ms. Teller.> 

<That, indeed, we are, Mrs. Kuryakin.> 

<I-I... you should not have come. He will be very angry that you are here.>

<Be that as it may, we are here.> Napoleon scented the drawing room and smelled Illya and his mother, no one else. With the knowledge that Illya was an omega, he was able to pick it up in the undertones and he mentally hit himself for never picking up on it before. Stupid, stupid, stupid! <We were worried when he quit with very little notice.> 

<He returned for my health has not been what it was.> That much was evident but she was lying through her teeth. Napoleon frowned at the beta woman and tilted his head to the side slightly. What was she covering up?

It didn't take long for Illya to return, the blonde walking in with a greeting to his mother before he was in the doorway to the drawing room. Upon seeing them, his jaw visibly clenched and he looked between his mother and his once-team mates. "What are you doing here, Cowboy?" The switch in language was quick and harsh to the ear. 

"Rescuing you, of course." Napoleon shot back as he stood slowly, trying to appear non threatening. 

"Excuse me." With that, Illya mother slipped past him and left him to his partners. 

"What part of do not follow was not obvious?" Illya demanded, his now-free hands shaking with a familiar anger. Too much of that and he would go into a rage. Time to talk him down. 

"Illya, we were worried about you." Gaby spoke up from her spot perched on the love seat. 

"I expressed that it was of own volition to leave." 

"Yes, but you-" Napoleon found himself being cut off. 

"But I nothing, Solo. You did not respect wishes." 

"We thought you were in trouble." Gaby snapped, always able to curb Illya's attitude when she had to. 

"Clearly I am not. Leave." Illya's words had a finality to them but that never stopped Napoleon before. 

"We know you're an omega." 

"And?"

"And? And!? You never thought to tell us?! What if you had gone into heat on a mission!" 

"Tch." Illya rolled his eyes, "I am Russian. We control heats better than you stupid Americans." 

"Illya-" Gaby stood and was about to go to him. 

"Not now, this is a breech of trust." Illya voice was calm despite his hand shaking. "I will not have it." 

<Illya Nickovitch Kuryakin!> Came a loud scolding voice from what they assumed was the kitchen, <You will treat guests and friends better than this! They were worried sick about you and hunted you down until they found you! Hear them out!> Illya winced as his mother shouted at him. 

<Yes, mother.> Turning to the two of them once more, he seemed deflated like they never had before. He was worried. "I did not choose to leave UNCLE. My contract was terminated." Well. That was something Waverly wouldn't have told them. "The KGB called me home for... for new mission." 

"What's the new mission?" Gaby asked softly. Illya dithered for a moment on that. 

"It is breeding program." 


End file.
